


The Things That Made Us Who We Were

by WantsUnicorns



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:46:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WantsUnicorns/pseuds/WantsUnicorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Draco’s relationship has always had its ups and downs but Draco fears he went too far this time.</p>
<p>Draco finds himself reflecting on the things that brought them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things That Made Us Who We Were

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to thank my beta A for putting up with my constant whining and geeking out over this and for her patience. Thank you so very much dearest for all the time you put into this and for your encouragement. Additional thanks to C for helping me out with the terminology where needed and for coming up with the new canon of Draco Abraxas Cygnus Malfoy.  
> This was originally written for hd_smoochfest over at LJ.

It was the first time in days that he had returned to their flat after the most recent fight. The hall was dark and clean. Draco carefully dropped his keys besides Harry’s spare keys into the bowl by the door and took off his cloak, making sure it didn’t crinkle as he hung it on the cloak rack. Walking slowly into the living room, careful not to make a sound, Draco took a look around. The state of the flat didn’t give any indication as to whether Harry was home or not. It felt cold and empty, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He passed the kitchen on the way and noticed about a dozen neatly stashed empty and rinsed wine bottles in the corner beside the sink; this was never a good sign, not only because of the wine, but also because of how ordered the arrangement was. Harry had been really upset this time.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

The first time they’d kissed had been after Harry had taken Draco out to dinner for their first date. After hours of pleasant conversation, Harry had walked Draco home. They could have apparated instead, but neither of them wanted the evening to end. Ever the perfect gentleman, Harry had actually walked Draco to his front door and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before saying goodbye – or at least that’s what they told their friends. The events of that evening actually weren’t something they’d made up, well mostly anyway, but it wasn’t their first kiss, nor was it anywhere near their second, if one decided to keep count of such things.

 

“Oh Merlin, Draco! My hands, they… look at them, they’re grotesque!”

“Harry, what are you talking about?”

“My hands, just look! What would you call that?”

“Genetic predisposition?”

“You’re not even looking Draco, how could you possibly judge? Oh shit, they’re huge!”

“They are not huge Harry, they fit your body-type to perfection.” Draco said exasperation clear in his voice.

“What type’ that then?” Harry asked grumpily.

_The dark-haired green-eyed sex god type,_ Draco’s thoughts provided promptly. He barely managed to keep his treacherous lips from spilling his secret. 

“Oh, you know: _speccy Gryffindor git_.” 

“Slytherin Wanker!” Came the immediate reply, both their minds on insult autopilot while they were occupied with more important things.

“Never said I wasn’t!”

“That’s not the point, is it? The point… the point was…? Now you’ve made me forget what my point was! Oh Dear Lord, look at how humongous my hands are!”

“I already told you, they are average size! Alright, watch.” It was a command. 

Draco’s slender hands reached for Harry’s shaking ones and gently took them. He pressed his palm against Harry’s and spread their fingers so their hands rested against each other like a perfect mirror image to make it easier for them to compare. Where Harry’s fingers were thick and strong, Draco’s were long and slender. Despite Harry’s alcohol-induced impression his hands weren’t huge at all; Draco’s fingers were in fact longer than his.

“You have hands like an aristocrat!” Awe filled Harry’s voice. “I have peasant hands. No wonder I’m so clumsy all the time.”

“Oh come now, there are a _lot_ of good uses for hands like that, that I can think of.” Draco said, clamping his mouth shut in mortification. 

Harry pulled Draco’s hands closer, causing the other man’s shirt sleeves to ride up and reveal the dark shadow marring his left forearm.

“Your hands are pretty and your arms are pretty too and you are…” Draco could almost see Harry mentally kicking himself and cutting his stream of words off by pure force of will.

Harry had held Draco’s left hand with his own, palm up as if he was about to tell the other man’s fortune. His index and middle finger had first drawn small circles on the inside of Draco’s palm and then wandered up to caress the heel of his hand. Watching Harry as he explored Draco’s hand and lower forearm was mesmerising.

“So beautiful,” Harry said dreamily. His hand moved up further, tracing the outline of Draco’s Dark Mark. Draco tried to pull his hand away without success; he didn’t want Harry to touch the part of himself that he was most ashamed of. To his surprise the grip on his hand merely intensified trapping his hand in Harry’s grip, the repetitive motion of his fingers never ceasing.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Sometimes. I am not sure I’ll ever be rid of it, of any of it really.” Draco said, suddenly serious. 

If he was honest with himself, he was glad that even though the mark had faded over time it still served as a constant reminder that there were better choices to be made out there. He would never let circumstances trap him into making stupid irreversible decisions again.

Harry’s hand gently brushed over the marked skin, almost making Draco jump as he hadn’t expected Harry to be quite so bold. Shivering at the intensity of the other man’s stare as he caressed the Dark Mark, Draco still couldn’t have torn his gaze away even if he’d wanted to.

“It’s weird, I always thought I’d feel something, his presence maybe, but I feel nothing.”

In contrast to Harry, Draco definitely felt something. His focus was narrowed to the inches of his forearm that Harry was caressing, lighting his nerve ends on fire. The touch of Harry’s fingers on his skin had temporarily destroyed his ability to speak. All he could do was sit there and let it happen. 

He felt the warmth of Harry’s skin seeping into his, as he drew soothing circles over his marred skin and then traced the pattern of the twisting snake to the mouth of the skull and back again. Somehow a simple drink after work had become uncomfortably intense. Draco reached for his glass of firewhiskey to calm his nerves and accidentally spilled some of it on Harry’s sleeve, causing him to withdraw both his hands. He brought the glass carefully to his lips and took a gulp swallowing quickly without savouring the flavour, before looking at Harry again.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Harry said as he clumsily dabbed at his wet sleeve with a filthy paper napkin. Draco made a face. Harry swayed dangerous in his seat and had to quickly reach out to cling to the tabletop to stop himself from toppling over.

“I really have to sit down.”

“Harry, you are sitting down!”

“Then why is the floor still moving?”

“Potter, you’re pissed! The floor is perfectly still.”

“Look who’s talking! You’re not even making an effort to stay in focus anymore, how can I be more ine-… ine-… drunk than you? And don’t call me Potter,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“I rest my case! Maybe we’d better go. We both have work in the morning and it is rather late.”

“But you can’t leave me here, my legs don’t work.”

“Seriously, that’s going to be your excuse?” Draco said shaking his half-full glass in front of Harry’s face and spilling even more of its contents onto his clothes.

Determined to prove his point Draco finished the last of his firewhiskey and walked over to Harry’s side of their little corner table.

“Get up you lazy bugger! Time to leave! Your legs are perfectly okay, you are just hammered beyond reason.”

“I said my legs don’t bloody well work no more!” Harry exclaimed jumping up and proving himself right by promptly falling against Draco, clutching the man’s robes in a desperate attempt to keep upright. “And and and not beyond reason… just in-… what’s the ruddy word? Inhibition! Beyond inhibition, that’s exactly how drunk I am. Which I am not at all, I’ll have you know.” He vehemently gesticulated in front of Draco’s face before losing his balance again.

Draco slung his arm around Harry’s waist to keep him from slipping to the floor. 

“Despite the double negative, your assessment of the state of your legs appears to have been accurate.”

“So beautiful!” Harry whispered enthralled, catching Draco completely off guard by his sudden change of topic. He reached up a hand almost reverently, apparently to caress Draco’s cheek but missing by several inches and ending up clutching his shoulder instead.

“What is?” Draco asked softly. He wanted to kick himself for whispering as well.

“Your eyes, they are the greyest grey, like starlight trapped in a jewellery box.”

Draco smiled despite himself. The compliment didn’t make any sense at all, at least not to him, it probably didn’t to Harry either, but it was a compliment nonetheless or so he hoped.

“Really now? And how could you possibly know that?”

“I can’t tell you, if I did, I’d have to ki-“ His words were cut off as warm and soft lips pressed against his own.

Draco, finally giving in to what he’d wanted to do ever since Harry had caressed the palm of his hand, had tilted Harry’s chin up with his free hand while the other man’s were still clutching his shoulder and his robes because his legs refused to keep him upright and kissed him. The kiss was sloppy and slightly uncoordinated but it was a kiss nonetheless. Harry had tasted like butterbeer and this distinct flavour had mixed with the one of firewhiskey in Draco’s mouth before too long.

Draco chuckled as he remembered apparating them to his flat, holding Harry tightly against him. Not knowing where Harry lived, he didn’t have a choice but to take Harry home with him, because the other man had steadfastly refused to give him his address. 

True to their original account nothing had happened between them, both were too tired and too far gone with drink to do anything but curl up beside each other on Draco’s huge bed and drift off into a drunken slumber. 

What had happened after they woke up the next morning, heads pounding and both sporting sizeable gaps in their memories was an entirely different story.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Looking down at his hands Draco quickly sobered, the smile vanishing as quickly from his face as it had appeared. Harry had always called them his _patrician hands_ and had sometimes gently mocked him for steepling his long fingers and bumping them against his lower lip when thinking about what to write next, his very own Quick-Quotes Quill expectantly hovering over a mostly blank scroll of parchment.

Night was just falling outside and even though it grew ever darker inside, Draco didn’t switch on the lights. Somehow the lengthening shadows managed to soften the harsh reality of their break-up, or so he thought until he noticed that not a single item was out of place. The flat was too clean. Whenever Harry was upset, he started cleaning things and sorting things. Draco suspected it was some kind of coping mechanism. You could always tell Harry’s state of mind from the state of the flat –socks strewn about, dirty dishes in the sink and magazines covering the dining table meant he was happy without a care in the world. The neater things became the more upset he was about something.  
Harry had always been prone to extreme reactions to upsetting circumstances. This had been their worst fight yet, Draco couldn’t bear to think about what he might have pushed Harry to do.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

“Harry, where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you. I was worried something had happened.”

“As if you care where I’ve been, I could have been devoured by a Devil’s Snare for all you care and don’t tell me it’s not true, you said as much.” Harry replied, not looking at him, but playing with his keys like a petulant child.

“Are you even listening to me? I was worried sick! You haven’t been home in days and now you have the audacity to tell me I don’t care about what happens to you? Well, fuck you Potter! Fuck you!” He stood suddenly, his hands braced on the cluttered dark surface of his desk, staring at Harry, barely contained fury marring his normally calm features. “You dare tell me that I don’t care? Why did you even come back if you think that? Why didn’t you ask one of your little fanboys to come over and pick up your things if you were that desperate to get away? Oh yes, you didn’t get in touch with them either, that’s why! You let me on a merry chase to try and find you, because you were sulking like an immature four-year-old with no concern for anyone else’s feelings. Selfish, that’s what that is!”

“Don’t pretend this is about anyone but you and me and your feelings, it’s always about you Draco, isn’t it? Always you, never us and never me. It’s about how I make _you_ feel, how _I_ make mistakes, how _I’m_ unfair to you.” 

Draco’s entire frame shook with anger now. Harry had left after their first fight, he’d just left. He hadn’t told his friends where he’d gone, nobody had known where he went and even the letters Draco had sent by owl had returned unopened, their bearers unable to deliver them. Draco had been worried out of his mind. Rogue Death Eaters were still a problem and who knew, maybe they’d run into an obviously distracted and agitated Harry and taken their revenge? For all he’d known, Harry was lying facedown by the roadside somewhere. In fact he’d grown so desperate he’d even floo-called Granger to inquire whether she had heard from him. Of course she hadn’t been able to help, or maybe she hadn’t been willing to, one never knew. Draco had hardly cared at that point.

At his wits’ end Draco had procured maps of all the places that had special meaning to Harry. He had apparated there, searching for his boyfriend. He’d only just returned from his last frantic search when Harry had sashayed into their flat as if he hadn’t been missing for the better part of a week and on top of that had accused him of not caring. That had been the last straw.

His hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly enough that his knuckles shone white against the already pale skin of his hands. 

“You are insufferable! I only just returned from Godric’s Hollow to try and find you, because I’d thought something had happened to you. I was worried sick about you and you tell me that it’s all about _me_ , that _I_ am the one who’s being selfish?”

Harry had walked around the desk slowly and determinedly, wrapping his arms around Draco’s rigid form from behind, not letting go despite Draco’s constant demands for “Potter” to “unhand” him “this instant”.

Harry had pressed kisses to the back of his neck, holding him tightly and whispering endearments and apologies.

“So sorry… didn’t mean to… upset you…” Harry whispered, trailing kisses along Draco’s neck. His arms still held Draco tightly even though he wasn’t trying to escape anymore. Despite his anger, Draco exposed more of his neck for Harry to worship, nuzzle and caress.

“Don’t think you are getting out of this that easily!” Draco said his breath hitching as Harry’s hand stroked up and down his arms soothingly. His eyelids fluttered shut as the sensation of Harry’s fingernails raking along his arms overwhelmed him.

Harry gently nibbled at Draco’s jaw, biting down slightly and then soothing the ache with his lips and tongue. Finally giving in to his desire Draco turned his head and let his lips get captured in a scorching kiss. Things were far from okay between them, but right now nothing mattered more than their need for each other.

Draco could feel Harry’s left hand sneaking underneath his partially untucked shirt, caressing the coarse pale blond hair that led downward from his bellybutton. Harry’s other hand was busily running along the unmistakable bulge at the front of Draco’s trousers. His nails were digging into the rough fabric as they traced the distinct shape of his cock, causing a moan to escape Draco with every upward motion of Harry’s hand.

Unable to hold back any longer, Draco turned around and reached for Harry. Their lips met again, almost brutally this time, biting, snarling and lapping at each other, both needy and desperate. Draco squeezed Harry’s behind so hard it must have hurt but Harry’s only response was to kiss him harder and continue massaging his bits through his clothes. 

Draco crowded Harry against the heavy desk, aligning their bodies and roughly pushing against him, the motion tearing a needy moan from Harry’s lips. The look in his eyes was dazed as he grabbed Draco’s arse and pulled him even harder against himself. He leaned over and whispered in Draco’s ear breathing hotly against his neck in the process.

“I want you to fuck me Draco. Please, let’s not fight, just fuck me please!”

The desperation in his voice almost undid Draco completely. He entangled his hands in Harry’s hair and pulled the other man’s face to his, kissing him possessively, overcome by the urge to mark him. When he finally released Harry, his boyfriend was panting and looking at him through pupils that were blown wide with lust.

Draco reached around Harry and brushed the cluttered mess of maps, pens, quills and paperwork off the desk in one swift motion. He didn’t even care where everything fell, all he cared about was Harry. 

In his haste to remove Harry’s clothes, he simply tore his shirt open by sheer force, tearing fabric and scattering buttons everywhere. His hands feverishly fumbled with Harry’s belt buckle and zipper, slapping the other man’s shaking hands away as he tried to help. Once he’d divested Harry of his clothing, the torn shreds of his shirts still hanging wantonly off his shoulders, he hoisted him up onto the desk. Harry’s arms were slung around Draco’s neck as he kissed him fiercely, whimpering into Draco’s mouth whenever the motion of Draco’s still clothed form provided delicious friction against his already leaking erection.

Draco allowed his hands to run up and down Harry’s quivering thighs, kneading and stroking the skin as he went, never getting anywhere near where Harry wanted him to and utterly ignoring the involuntary motion of Harry’s hips whenever he got close to his prick. Breaking their kiss, Draco murmured a quick wandless spell, leaving Harry prepared and ready. Letting go of Harry entirely for a moment, Draco released his prick from the confinement of his trousers, giving it a few short strokes before aligning himself with Harry and slowly pushing into his tight body. Another whimper escaped him, while Harry tipped up his pelvis to give him deeper access. Their ragged breathing was loud in the sudden quiet of the room. Harry’s eyes were pressed shut and he bit down on his bottom lip, his expression flickering between pleasure and pain as Draco slowly pushed all the way inside of him, making them both moan involuntarily. He only stopped when his balls rested heavily against Harry’s buttocks.

“Okay?” He asked, breathing heavily against Harry’s lips.

Instead of a reply, Harry pulled him into another passionate kiss.

Never letting go of Draco’s neck, Harry slung his long legs around Draco’s hip, crossing his ankles behind his back.

Draco slowly pulled out, his hands clinging to Harry’s hips hard enough to bruise, before slamming back in, setting a less than gentle pace. 

This was the first time Harry had allowed Draco to fuck him and if Draco hadn’t been so angry, he’d have been far more gentle. Harry didn’t seem to mind though and little needy sounds continued to spill from his lips.

“More, Draco, please, I need…” his breath hitched as Draco’s prick hit his sweet spot. “Oh fuck yes!”

“Just like that, huh?” Draco said and repeated the motion.

“Fuck yes, oh… please…”

Harry was now clinging to him for what seemed like dear life. Moaning and begging between placing open mouthed kisses on Draco’s mouth and neck.

“I am still angry with you, you know.” Draco forced out between pants.

“Sorry, I am so sorry…”

“Never. Disappear. Like that. Again!” Draco said, punctuating each word with a rough thrust.

“I won’t, I… I promise.” Harry replied, moaning wantonly and pushing back against every single punishing thrust.

“Oh shit, oh shit! Please Draco, just… hah…!” He sharply exhaled as Draco reached for his prick squeezing and pulling to hurry his climax along. Draco could feel Harry’s stomach muscles tighten as he came, screaming his orgasm into the curve of Draco’s neck, almost sobbing in relief. He quivered and shook as his release coated Draco’s hands and his own stomach.

The contractions of Harry’s channel as he climaxed wrung Draco’s orgasm from him. His fingers tightened even more on Harry’s hips as he threw his head back and stars exploded in front of his eyes. 

After what seemed like a very long time, he slowly became aware of their surroundings again, clothes and paper were strewn everywhere and as he looked down he noticed that the sturdy desk had actually moved several inches across the floor under the force of their lovemaking. Harry was still clinging to him, sobbing against the exposed skin of his neck and finally Draco became aware of the litany of words spilling out of his lover’s mouth.

“I am so sorry. Please forgive me… Draco, I…I love you. I don’t want to be without you. Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me…” The desperation in his voice was heart-breaking and finally made Draco relent.

“Shhh, it’s alright, I won’t leave. I promise.” He gathered Harry’s shivering and shaking form close and placed a gentle kiss on the crown of his head.

“I was angry because I was worried about you. Don’t ever scare me like that again, all right?” The other man nodded weakly. Draco gently lifted Harry’s chin and held his gaze, before leaning in and kissing Harry tenderly. “I love you too.”

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Draco had sunk down onto the sofa in the living room, eyes unseeing as the memory had overwhelmed him. Why couldn’t they do anything the normal way, like a normal couple? It was far too late now anyway, but the question still haunted him.  
He sighed deeply and wearily brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. He had promised Harry he’d never leave, but after their last fight, he couldn’t bear the sight of their shared belongings and their flat anymore. Draco had been out of sorts all day and having backed himself into a corner, with no way to escape, he’d lashed out. He’d fucked up royally and he knew it, this wasn’t the first time either, although it probably was the last.

Outside the wind picked up, causing the curtains to thrash around. Draco could hear the first splatter of raindrops against the wide open windows as he hid his face in his hands, ashamed of having broken his promise to Harry. A few years ago he’d never have thought he’d be even more lost without him.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

He was sitting on the steps outside the Ministry of Magic, his face cradled in his still shaking hands. The sky had turned from a muddy grey to a shade so dark it was almost black, not long ago. Heavy raindrops were falling now and the wind had picked up, slamming the liquid projectiles into the exposed skin of his arms and hands.

Draco still didn’t know what had happened at the trial. He’d entered the courtroom convinced that by the end of it, he’d be on the fast track to Azkaban and he knew it was what he deserved for the things he’d done. Nothing he could do would ever make up for his sins, his soul would always be tainted. Even though the Wizengamot had for whatever reason chosen to forgive him, he wasn’t sure he ever could.

The rain grew heavier and Draco could feel his clothing slowly soaking through but he still didn’t move, let alone get up to leave or seek shelter from the weather. He didn’t know what to do next. Where was he supposed to go? His life in the last few days had revolved around being questioned by the Aurors, being shackled and brought before the members of the Wizengamot and questioned again even more harshly. There had only been one possible direction his life could have taken and Draco had resigned himself to it. 

He felt lost now that it had been torn out of his grasp. He was probably supposed to feel relief or joy – he assumed those feelings might be appropriate and come later. At this moment all he knew was that he felt destitute and lonely, like a sailor lost at sea whose ship had torn itself free of the wharf and now drifted anchorless and rudderless to Merlin knew where.

The Aurors had caught him only two weeks previously when, after months of hiding abroad with his parents, he’d returned home, finally giving in to his homesickness and foolishly triggering a barrage of tracking and observing spells in the process. He should have known better than to return to the Manor “only for one day, to say goodbye” as he’d told himself.

He didn’t even notice someone speaking to him until the person repeated what they’d said, sounding more urgent this time.

There he was; his Harry, his saviour, the man who had not an hour ago stood in front of the Wizengamot and testified on his behalf. They’d argued with him about how Draco should have known better, how he was a marked Death Eater and needed to be punished for his actions, about how they needed to make an example of him, but Potter hadn’t given an inch. He’d talked about Draco’s youth, his circumstances at the time, about mistakes in education, about setting an example, about forgiving, about their responsibility to society to lead by example, and about giving this brave new wizarding world a chance to move on towards the light, finally laying the dark of the past to rest. 

Potter had stood up to the rows and rows of aging wizards, looking like an avenging angel. He even had declined their demand for house arrest and confiscation of the Malfoy funds, reasoning that the trial shouldn’t be about revenge or retaliation. The new world needed to learn how to forgive, to move on, to practise reconciliation and with their fortunes intact the Malfoys would at least have a chance to repent for their actions in whatever way they chose. 

Harry had stood there as if saying “you owe me, every single person in this room does and you are going to let me have this one.” His voice had been filled with righteous conviction and he had looked at everyone except Draco as he spoke.

Even though he’d been there, Draco still didn’t understand why he would be forgiven by the one man who had the least reason to.

“Malfoy, are you alright?” Potter’s voice sounded worried. 

As Draco finally looked up and met the other man’s eyes, he saw real concern there, directed at him. The emotion conveyed was so intense that he couldn’t make himself speak. The only thing he could do was drown in those honest green eyes.

Harry stepped closer, sheltering Draco from the rain with his umbrella. He reached out as if to touch Draco’s shoulder but then stopped as if he didn’t quite dare to complete motion before repeating his earlier question.

“I honestly don’t know,” Draco forced out. “Why do you even care?”

“I just do. Aren’t you happy they pardoned you?” Potter asked, confusion evident in his voice.

Wasn’t that just Potter all over? Draco thought, always the first to rush in to save people but never thinking twice about the consequences.

“I… I don’t see how that’s any of your business Potter.”

Harry’s face fell, making Draco immediately regret his harsh words. If there was one thing he couldn’t deal with right now, it was Potter’s disappointment in him. Not after what had happened in the court room. 

That was why Potter was so dangerous; he’d look at you, see something worthy in you and you’d try to become the person he wanted you to be, simply because you couldn’t bear to prove him wrong or to see his hopes in you smashed to pieces. You tried, because no matter how unworthy you considered yourself to be, if he saw something in you then maybe, just maybe, you weren’t a lost cause like everyone else had led you to believe.

“I am sorry. Look, I just… I don’t know what to feel. I know I should dance with joy and be grateful fate spared me, but I’d be lying if I said I felt anything even remotely like that.”

Potter merely looked at him as if needing him to carry on, but not quite daring to ask him to.

“See Potter, I know who I am, I know where I came from and I know what I headed toward. Being evil – as ridiculous as it may sound – is easy. You don’t need to question your actions; you don’t need to live up to expectations because people just don’t have any. All they expect from you is to be evil so they have a whipping boy should your side lose. Well, my side lost and all I need to be is a scapegoat.” Draco swallowed audibly but forced himself to continue speaking. “I’ve always known what would happen to me, if we lost and I’ve never thought past that. Either we’d win and my life as I knew it would be over, or we’d lose and I’d get punished for my sins. There’s never been room for anything else.” 

Silence stretched between them only interrupted by the constant patter of the rain on Potter’s umbrella. 

“So, you see, I know where I should be, but I am not there, I am here with you. I don’t know what to do or feel, because I was never expecting to be given another chance.”

Potter sat down beside him then. He reached out and laid a gentle hand on Draco’s shoulder. The man’s intense gaze was focused on him and Draco couldn’t have looked away if he’d tried.

“Do you truly think that you do not deserve to be saved?”

Draco didn’t have an answer to that, or rather none that he ventured to mention.

“As upsetting as this may sound, this is not about you, as much as it is about everyone who went through the war.” Draco’s heart fell and his face must have given away some of his feeling, because Potter, smiling briefly, squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“No, hear me out. Of course it’s also about you, but you and everyone else need to learn to move on, to grant chances instead of denying them, not to punish but to forgive transgressions. Nobody is going to profit from you being in Azkaban. It’s not about whether you deserve to be saved either, it’s more about the fact that you needed to be saved. I needed to save you.” Potter stopped, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves and looking slightly flushed as if he’d said more than he’d intended to. 

“I am not sure I understand, but for once I’ll trust your judgement, I definitely owe you that much.” Draco smiled to take the sting out of his words and to his surprise Potter smiled back. The other man looked genuinely happy.

Just as he was about to speak, the She-Weasel rushed down the broad flight of stairs closely followed by the rest of the Golden Trio and shook Potter’s shoulder.

“Come on, we have to go, we’ll be late for dinner!” She shot Draco a filthy look as if to say that she was quite convinced that he’d taint her precious saviour by proximity alone. “Hurry up, mum won’t be in a forgiving mood if we are late for no reason again.”

“Can you guys wait for me? I’ll be right over.” Potter said, frustration clear in his voice.

“Harry…”

“Gin, please, just go with the others, I’ll catch up!”

The She-Weasel sighed resignedly and rushed off to stand with the others by a shop window on the other side of the street to keep dry, but not before shooting another murderous glare in Draco’s direction.

“Alright, what do you say we start afresh you and me? Clean slate and all that? Let’s see how it turns out this time.” Potter stretched out his right hand.

“Hello, my name is Harry James Potter, nice to meet you, feel free to call me Harry.” He grinned as he spoke, making him appear much younger, almost boyish.

Thinking back to the first time he’d offered his hand to Potter and been refused, Draco decided to go along this time – clean slate it was – took Potter’s hand and shook it.

“My name is Draco Abraxas Cygnus Malfoy; how do you do? Feel free to call me Draco.”

Potter snickered.

“Oh shut it you!” Draco replied grinning, punching him playfully in the arm with his free hand. “I’ll have you know that those were my honourable grandfathers’ names thank you very much!”

They were both grinning by now. Potter, no Harry, Draco corrected himself, gave his hand one last squeeze before releasing it.

“You know, I am really glad I caught you. I was almost afraid I wouldn’t ever see you again after you received your full pardon.” Harry said still smiling but sounding more serious.

“Haaaaarryyy! What could possibly be taking this long? Hurry up, we are late as it is!” The Weasleyette’s annoyed voice carried nicely over the distance, Draco observed inwardly, he’d never known she’d quite such a good set of lungs on her.

“I’ll be right over.” Harry yelled, before turning to Draco speaking urgently.

“I am glad, because this gives us a chance to get to know each other better. And I really want to, get to know you better I mean. Do you want to come and have dinner with us?” Harry asked sounding like he was grasping at straws to come up with a reason to prolong their encounter. 

_Interesting_ , Draco thought and decided to file this observation for later use.

“I am afraid I’ll have to decline, I don’t think your girlfriend likes me very much.” He drawled in reply.

“You are right, she probably doesn’t.” Harry replied chuckling. “Rain check?”

“Alright Potter, if you insist!”

“I’ll owl you if that’s okay?”

“I’d like that.” _Very much_ Draco said smiling.

Potter pressed the handle of his umbrella into Draco’s hand, squeezing it once, the gentle touch lingering slightly longer than would have been normal. 

As Harry released his hand, Draco could still feel the warmth of his touch as if he had been burned. Harry smiled and waved at him shyly, his back still turned to his friends, consequently hiding the motion, before stepping back into the rain and crossing the street to join the others. They cast a last look in his direction before they began walking away. Draco watched them until they were gone. 

Potter wouldn’t owl him, he was sure of it. Why should he, he’d done his job and saved him? He’d even talked to him in public. 

Draco still remembered his surprise when he came home to find an unfamiliar owl already waiting for him by the front door. He lowered the wards before unlocking the door and stepping inside. The bird followed him hooting softly.

He’d gently detached the tiny scroll from the bird’s leg, patting it and digging through his pockets for an owl treat. After the bird had eaten, it gently nipped Draco’s finger and then took off.

He’d sat down at his kitchen table and almost reverently unscrolled the small piece of parchment, smoothening it out on the flat surface before reading it. A single line of slightly scrawny writing had been all it contained. Draco had read it and smiled.

  


_By the way, welcome home!_  


  


_\- Harry_  


~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Draco remembered intending to throw the small scroll away but never quite managing to. He’d folded it neatly and tucked it into his wallet at the time. Unbeknownst to Harry, it was still there, still treasured even though it was only the first of many such notes Harry had sent him over the years. No matter what happened, even if it would only serve as a painful reminder of what they’d had and what he’d foolishly thrown away, Draco knew that it would stay with him till the day he died.

The cold wind from the windows made Draco shiver. He walked over to the windows and closed them, shutting out the noise and cold. Much like the thunderstorm outside, his inner turmoil still raged on.

He stood by the cold fireplace. In the evenings they were in the habit of lighting a fire and then cuddling up on the sofa, reading or sharing the day’s events. Clearly Harry hadn’t felt the need to, he was probably out somewhere with his friends, telling them what a bastard Draco was, as he was wont to do, when he was drunk.

Draco ran his hand along the dark wood of the mantelpiece, not a speck of dust clung to his finger. Harry had definitely been thorough in his efforts. Around a series of holiday photographs, they’d arranged some pebbles, seashells, bits of twisted gnarled old wood and a few feathers they’d found. There were many photos. Like always, Draco’s gaze was immediately drawn to his favourite picture of the two of them. Despite what others might expect, the ones from the holidays in Paris or Barcelona weren’t Draco’s favourites, his favourite was one they’d taken at the beginning of their relationship during an impromptu weekend trip to Hogwarts.

Harry had transfigured his glasses into a weird Muggle contraption that he’d called shades, he’d held up their camera with both hands and tried to take a picture of the two of them with the lakeshore in the background. Of course it hadn’t worked properly and after much giggling and many tries the photo on the mantelpiece had been taken. It showed the two of them looking into the camera laughing and Harry trying to hold the camera steady as Draco’s advances grew bolder with every passing second. The repeating scene in the photograph ended with them kissing passionately and Harry dropping the camera.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Their first holiday together had only been a weekend trip to Hogsmeade and the weather hadn’t been very nice, except for on the last day. The sun had been bright in the sky and as the entire school was on summer break they had spent the day by the lake, swimming in the cool water and sunbathing on the sandy lakeshore. Maybe it was the proximity to their old hunting grounds, but it took them almost no time at all to go back to teasing each other mercilessly.

“Gryffindork!”

“Pureblood Wanker!”

“Bitch!”

“Wimp!”

“Ponce!”

“I’ll get you for that Malfoy!”

“Doesn’t make it any less true!”

“Oh you are so going down!”

“I’d love to, but you’ll have to catch me first!”

Draco let Harry chase him across the lakeside beach, laughing and looking back over his shoulder every now and then.

“You’ll never catch me Potter, Malfoys are superior runners,” he yelled. Suddenly stopped short by Harry who’d appeared right in front of him. The bastard must have apparated when he’d realised he wouldn’t catch up with Draco through conventional means.

“Not fair!” He said, gasping as he was tackled to the floor by his overly eager _Gryffindork_.

“Well, it seemed I wouldn’t get you without employing some Slytherin tactics and cheating obviously was the first thing that came to mind.” Harry drawled as he pinned Draco to the sand with the weight of his body, holding the other man’s wrists down beside his head.

“What a low shot Harry!” Draco said huffing with indignation. Then suddenly smirking added, “True Slytherins call it being cunning by the way! Has a much nicer ring to it, don’t you think?” With that he bucked his hips suddenly, dislodging his startled boyfriend in the process. 

Harry spluttered as he tried to find his balance and gave chase. He managed to get up after the second try only to realise that he was completely starkers. 

In the distance he could see his boyfriend laughing and waving Harry’s red pair of swimming trunks at him. Slytherins definitely were quite ingenious he decided, the blond menace must have summoned the trunks while Harry was busy getting up. Always up for a challenge like a true Gryffindor, Harry charged and pursued Draco into the lake. After a lot of splashing, laughing and kissing and later drying off on their towels in the lovely warmth of the afternoon sunlight, Draco did go down, but in a way that left Harry quite inarticulate and not minding at all when his boyfriend kissed him afterwards and called him “his little Gryffindork”.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

The storm kept raging on outside, smashing raindrops against the windows and whipping torn off leaves and twigs across the wet glass. It almost seemed as if it wanted to come inside to destroy the overly calm and ordered interior of the flat.

Draco sighed. There really was no point in staying, everything reminded him of just how wrong he’d been, of what he’d destroyed and he just couldn’t bear it anymore. He would just go into their bedroom and get a few of his things out of the wardrobe and then go and spend yet another night at the Manor with his parents.

When he walked along the landing that lead to their bedroom, it felt longer than usual; the only people who could understand what Draco felt at this moment were the ones who had been shouted at a lot, been confined to a small room and were then led to a platform where a man wearing a black hood to hide his face was waiting for them. Everything inside of him screamed at him to run away, to avoid the last piece of evidence that things would never be the same but his feet weren’t listening, they steadily carried him forward.

It was only when his hand was already turning the handle that he noticed the soft shimmer of light seeping into the hallway from under the door. Maybe Harry was actually at home; maybe he was waiting for him in their bedroom, just waiting for him to come home. Draco’s heart sped up at the thought, filled with fear and anticipation alike. Anticipation won out and he stepped into the room, a happy smile lighting up his face, despite his worries that Harry might not want him back.

The room was empty and impeccable, aside from a few blankets on the bed that weren’t folded like they usually were. Harry’s friends had probably made him go out with them, before he had a chance to clean everything.

Draco turned to the source of light, which was a small lamp on their writing desk that they’d bought together. The white porcelain shade softened the light in the most ideal way, just bright enough to be able to read and write and not hurt the eye. The part of the floor that was illuminated was littered with dozens of snowball-sized crushed paper balls, their trail leading up to the small writing desk in the corner and the overflowing waste-paper-basket beside it. On the dark wooden floor of their bedroom they looked like fallen stars or snowflakes softly descending from the night sky.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Harry had said that he wanted to show Draco something, so they’d both put on their coats and boots. Draco had made sure Harry’s scarf was wrapped around tightly enough and Harry in turn hade made sure that so was Draco’s. Harry had held tightly onto Draco’s gloved hand and apparated them away.

They’d found themselves on a lonely stretch of snowy road, Draco had no idea where they were. He’d much rather have spent the evening in front of a cosy fire like it was fitting for Christmas Eve, but this had been important to Harry which mean it was important to Draco as well.

The moon lit the road and the surrounding fields and trees, making the ice crystals glow and leaving the impression of walking down a plain of diamonds. 

It was breathtakingly beautiful, but that wasn’t why there were here, that much Draco knew. 

Their breath rose into the cold night air in small pale clouds as they walked in silence. It didn’t take them long to reach the outskirts of a picturesque village, smoke rising from almost every chimney, the only life signs for miles around. Due to the lateness of the hour most of the windows were darkened. The kind of silence that magnified all sound, which one could only find on a night as bitterly cold as this one, covered the village like a shroud. How fitting then that they didn’t head for any of the cottages, but the churchyard that was on the other side of it.

Harry paused at the gate and finally turned to look at his partner.

“I come here every year on Christmas Eve, since this is our first Christmas together; I wanted you to come along, to be part of this. You are part of my family now and I want to share this with you.”

“We are in Godric’s Hollow, aren’t we?”

“Yes, this is where my parents were laid to rest.” Harry’s voice shook slightly, as if he still wasn’t used to speaking about them like this even after all these years.

Draco took a step closer to Harry, enclosing him in the warmth of his embrace, just holding him, giving him strength through his presence alone. There was no need for words.

Harry pressed his cold cheek into Draco’s, letting himself be held and drawing strength from his proximity. It was at moments like this, when Harry so clearly needed him that Draco wondered what he’d done in the years before they’d become lovers. Who had given him support when he’d needed it? Had he always just pretended to be strong, because he had to be? Was it Draco who allowed Harry to show weakness for the first time?

They stood there in the cold starry night for a long time, before Harry finally disentangled himself. He took Draco’s hand and they both walked across the churchyard toward two of the few graves that were obviously still being looked after. Their crunching steps the only sounds as they walked.

Harry leant down to the headstone and tenderly brushed the snow away, revealing the names of James and Lily Potter. He stepped back to take hold of Draco’s hand once more. Time passed and they could hear the sound of a hymn floating over to them from the nearby church, where the midnight mass was just being held. 

Draco didn’t know how long they stood there, before Harry began to speak, telling his parents about his life, about where he’d been in the last year and then he began speaking about Draco, about their shared lives and how much it all meant to him. Instead of sadder his voice began to sound more and more cheerful as he talked about how happy he was, about how he felt like he’d finally found a place to call home, where he was loved and accepted and about how he didn’t feel lost anymore, that he’d finally found his place in the world.

After the flood of words finally ebbed away, quiet settled over them once more. Draco drew his wand and conjured a wreath made of lilies and leant it against the headstone. He felt deeply moved by what Harry had said and this small gesture was the only way he could think of to express how deeply grateful he felt for Harry to have shared this with him. It had been very important to them both.

Harry’s gaze was fixed on Draco, he drew him into a tight hug, holding on to him as if he never wanted to let go. Around them the snow began to fall, covering the headstone and the wreath. It was time to go home.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

Draco felt himself drawn to the writing desk. He made his way towards it, taking care not to step on any of the discarded paper. A single sheet of paper and a quill lay abandoned on the small desk. Only hesitating for a moment, Draco reached out and took the paper. It was a letter, addressed to him. Taking into account the untidy scrawl and the many scratched out words, it had been written by Harry. Feeling slightly guilty, Draco began to read.

>   
> 
> 
> ~~_Dear_~~ Beloved Draco,

> I am so sorry, please come back ~~home~~ to me. 

> I can’t be without you. 

> I am sorry we fight ~~all the time~~ so often, I’ll try to do better in the future.

> I miss you, God how I miss you

>   
> 
> 
> ~~Trying~~ ~~It’s impossible~~ , I can’t fall asleep without you next to me.

>   
> 
> 
> ~~I am thinking~~ the thought of you with someone else is ~~breaking my~~ killing me.

> Come back to me, please, please come back to me.

It was unsigned.

Draco picked up one of the crushed paper balls and unfolded it carefully. It was more of the same, they probably all were, about how it was all Harry’s fault and how he loved Draco and about how he needed him back.  
How Harry could possibly have thought that the state of things was his fault was beyond Draco. Still holding the first letter tenderly, Draco sank onto the bed as he felt all strength leave him. He truly didn’t deserve someone like Harry and now it was too late, now Harry had left their home as well and who knew, maybe he would never return.

Draco stared forlornly at the mess on the floor in front of him. It perfectly mirrored the mess he’d made of his life and he had no idea of how to fix it. He hadn’t felt this helpless since his sixth year at Hogwarts. Tears stung his eyes and he almost gave in to the urge to cry, when he felt something shift on the bed behind him.

He slowly turned around afraid of what he might see. He still wasn’t prepared of the sight that met him. 

Harry was laying in the middle of their bed, covered by a mountain of blankets, his tearstained face barely visible in the light cast by the small porcelain lamp. The man was clutching something to his chest that Draco couldn’t quite make out. As Harry shifted again, Draco could see that he was cradling Draco’s favourite jumper to his chest. 

They’d bought it together and the only reason Draco had decided to buy it was because when he’d tried it on, Harry hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself, continuously running them up and down his arms and feeling his pectoral muscles and flat stomach through the soft fabric. 

Remembering the scene, Draco realised that at the time, anyone with half a brain would have been able to tell that the two of them were an item. He just as clearly recalled how neither of them had wasted a thought on that, rather more occupied with the notion of going home and having Harry help Draco out of his new jumper. The fact that nobody had known they were a couple at the time didn’t seem to matter to them either.

Now Harry’s fingers were entwined so tightly in the fabric as if he would never let go.

Draco’s first impulse which he barely managed to resist, was to reach out and wake Harry. Instead he lay down on the bed, facing Harry and gently brushing an errant strand of dark hair out of his face. As if triggered by the motion, Harry suddenly moved closer, his hands still clutching the jumper and buried his face in Draco’s chest. This time Draco couldn’t resist reaching out an arm and pulling him closer. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of Harry’s head and then just held him close, not wanting to disturb his sleep.

~.o.O.0.O.o.~

They woke up much later, still in the same slightly awkward position, yet neither of them willing to move away. They only moved apart far enough to be able to look at each other, leaving their legs entwined. It took a long time before either of them spoke.

“You aren’t real. You can’t be him.”

“Harry, I am real.” Draco said, reaching out and caressing Harry’s cheek. A small smile stole across his features as Harry pressed his cheek back into the palm of his hand.

“I don’t want you to go. You are here with me every night, but in the mornings you are always gone. Why do you have to be so cruel?” He whispered, pressing his eyes shut as if that would help keep out the harsh reality. 

“I am here now Harry, I won’t leave again, I promise.” Draco bent down and gently kissed his boyfriend. “Open your eyes Harry, I am still here and I am not going anywhere.”

“I’ve waited for you, I’ve waited for you to return for days, but you never came. I thought you would never come back to me.”

“I am so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have left. I don’t even know why I left anymore.”

Draco needed Harry to open his eyes and look at him, needed for him to see the regret in his eyes and that he was sincere about his words.

“Please look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes, but he still didn’t look at him, almost as if he didn’t dare. As if looking at him would make him fade away like a wisp of smoke in the light of day.

“I had no right to make such demands on you, to burden you down with such expectations. You told me that you weren’t used to that first thing and I should have known better than to push you.”

“Harry!” Draco tried to interrupt, but the other man just went on hopelessness evident in his voice.

“I am okay with your conditions. You can decide those thi-“

Draco had finally had it and decided to kiss his lover into silence. They kissed for a long time, tenderly and slow as if having to relearn the shapes of each other’s lips, savouring the taste as if it was a new flavour they were just enjoying for the first time. When Harry finally stopped trying to break the kiss to continue speaking, Draco released him, still staying close in case he needed to shut the other man up again if he wasn’t willing to listen.

“You did have the right to make those demands on me Harry. With everything I’ve shown you, everything that I indicated through my behaviour, you knew you had the right to do this, which is why you did it.”

“Then why did you say no?”

“Because I was scared, because it’s such a big step and I didn’t know whether I was ready. I still don’t know to be honest. The last few days without you have been terrible, I thought I’d lost you and that it was all my fault for not being ready or able to commit to you. I was afraid that I wasn’t able to give you what you deserved. And I still am.”

“So you don’t want to marry me?” Harry asked in a small voice.

Draco kissed him again Harry clinging to him as if he was afraid Draco would leave once more.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say. I do. I do want to marry you, because I realised that I want you, that I want to be with you and nobody else and I don’t want you to be with anyone else either. I want to be able to promise you with all my being that I won’t leave you again. I might run out in a huff, or maybe you might next time, but I want to promise you that we’ll always come home in the end, because that’s where we belong, with each other and nobody else. No matter how much we fight, we belong together.”

“I…” Harry didn’t seem to be able to find the words. Instead he settled for kissing Draco, trying to convey through touch what he couldn’t express in words. Luckily for both of them, Draco understood him perfectly.

~Fin~


End file.
